


Home Target

by waterfallliam



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Emotions, Happy Ending, Kissing, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterfallliam/pseuds/waterfallliam
Summary: Peter sighs. “I’m in trouble.”It's been eight months since Juno saw him last.





	

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick warning that i couldn't work out a good tag for: juno briefly considers his death, but only bc he's in a life threatening situation, the situation is resolved within the first five paragraphs.  
> apart from that i really hope ive managed to get everyone's voices (at least acceptably) right :). unbetaed.  
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it!

****So, here Juno is, dangling over a ledge, his heart in his chest, one of his favourite nightmares come to visit him in his waking hours. To be honest, Juno is beginning to  wonder if they are all going to come true, one by one, like some cruel joke of existence.

He looks down. It's  a mistake.

His hands slip a bit, and Juno is grateful it isn't raining. A rarity in Hyperion City. He, on the other hand, minutes away from death, is completely, numbingly normal.

What if these _are_ his final moments? The timely end of Juno Steel. He does want to go on, sure - he has plenty of bad decisions to make and to regret - but he’s also half convinced he’s overdue. How many times has he wiggled out of death’s clutches with a sarcastic comment? It isn't like the city is going to miss him, anyway. Rita, for a while, but in all the galaxy… who is there to miss him?

Then, suddenly, hands grip his wrists and he is being pulled up, over the ledge to safety.

“Thanks,” Juno says, opening his eyes again. He almost goes back to believing he’s dreaming when he sees Peter Nureyev laying beneath him. Nureyev, who has just saved his life. Once again.

“Juno, darling,” Peter bites his lip with his sharp teeth, as if trying to take back the endearment, “how come we keep meeting like this?”

It’s a welcome interruption from almost dying. Anything less than that, and Juno might be far more pissed about how he’s not only seeing Nureyev again, but that he is sprawled all over him. Juno doesn’t move.

“It’s not like I enjoy playing the damsel in distress,” Juno counters. If this is meant to be some kind of cosmic joke, he isn’t laughing.

“You do a lot of damseling then, do you? Disheveled really shouldn’t be such a good look on you, Juno.” Peter is the one who makes the move to stand. Juno follows, glad to feel something solid under his feet.

“Unfortunately getting into life threatening situations comes with the job,” Juno says wryly.

“Yes, I’ve certainly had that experience.”

Juno winces.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he looks over his shoulder pointedly at Nureyev, “then you can tell why exactly is it that you were here to save me.” Again.

“As you wish,” Nureyev says.

Juno ignores him, choosing instead to devote his full attention to pushing against the door that opens onto a staircase leading down. By the time they’ve snuck out of the building and are heading towards Juno’s office, Juno’s only snuck a grand total of six glances at Nureyev.

“I see the weather on Mars is still awful,” Nureyev comments at the grey sky.

Juno doesn’t think he’s imagining Nureyev’s eyes burning into him occasionally, too.

“So,” Juno says as he pulls the door to his office shut after he’s done the same with the outer one to Rita’s foyer slash office, “what’s the deal?”

“Business first, business as usual I see,” Nureyev says,head bowed a little. His hair is short, shorter than it had been the last time Juno had seen him.

It isn’t a good look on him. He looks a little bedraggled, a word Juno never thought he’d associate with Peter Nureyev.

“What happened to you?” Juno can’t bite back his question in time.

“Ah, detective, so many questions-”

“Nureyev,” Juno grates, too fed up with today to even know where he wants to start complaining.

“I ran into trouble,” Peter says blunty.

Juno raises an eyebrow.

“Specifically, Rex Glass is in trouble I’m afraid.”

“Okay, what sort of trouble?” Juno shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Well,” Peter rubs the back of his neck, abashed, “it was a mistake, a side effect, really…”

“Peter.” Juno is in no mood for fun and games, no matter how charming Peter is.

“Alright, alright Juno. You know I worked for Dark Matters, that’s how I came here to steal the mask… and well, you know how that tale goes,” Juno shifts uncomfortably, “and well, really Juno I’m wondering why exactly you care so much.”

There they are, Nureyev’s teeth. Sharp, and just waiting to draw blood.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but some of us,” a pointed look from those dark eyes, “remember the last time I was here.”

As if Juno doesn’t remember. As if he doesn’t have… regrets. As if he’s changed his mind.

“So why are you here?”

Peter sighs. “I’m in trouble.”

It's been eight months since Juno saw him last.

“What sort of trouble?”

“The sort of trouble you don’t come back from!”

The silence between them is like a chasm. Juno doesn’t want to walk on air and fall.

“So, why not disappear?”

Nureyev fixes him with a look. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Hyperion City is always in need of fresh blood.

“So you’ll help me?” Juno hates how hopeful Nureyev sounds.

Juno sighs. “What do you think, Nureyev?”

Of course he’s going to help him. His skin suddenly feels too tight. He reaches to pour himself a drink.

He offers the bottle to Nureyev.

“Yes please.”

A second glass joins the first.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet and honest but Juno hears it all the same.

Juno doesn’t care if this will turn out to be yet another mistake in a long, long line of mistakes. He tells himself it’s because he owes Nureyev for helping him with the egg, for saving his life.

Juno pours himself another and ignores asking where Nureyev is going to stay. Juno knows that if Nureyev suggests a hotel, he’ll say it’s unsafe. Nureyev would refuse to sleep on the floor; Juno’s sofa is almost worse, lumpy as it is, and Juno isn’t going to subject his back to either of them all night long.

A third drink joins the others.

“We’ll discuss it more in the morning,” Juno says as he begins to tug off his clothing. It’s been a _long_ day.

“Uh-I- detective-” and Juno doesn’t want to know what’s going through his mind-

“I’m going to take a shower.”

It helps, but Juno still feels ready to burst even when his soft pyjamas envelop him. No point in giving either of them any ideas.

“Juno, you’ve neglected to tell me where I’m going to be sleeping.” Nureyev’s voice is a melodic sing song again.

“Your choice.” Juno offers no smart comment, no attempt to flirt. He doesn’t want to think about it, about sharing a bed again, about what is Nureyev’s only logical choice in this situation, even though Juno hasn’t consulted him about it, about what’s smartest.

Maybe he just wants to remember what it’s like, to wake up and to believe for a split second that he can have everything.

“I don’t care.” Juno really, really, wishes he didn’t.

And then he’s crashing into bed, the taste of mint in his mouth making him grimace. At least his covers are warm, soft.

He hears the rustle of clothing. A muttered curse.

“If you don’t mind…” a warm body slips into bed beside his own. Juno doesn’t bother to reply.

He can feel Nureyev turn his back on him. Juno tries not to think back to last time he shared a bed with him. He fails.

“Don’t worry,” Juno mumbles, then he’s gone.

 

\- - -

 

The morning dawns grey and bright. Juno reflexively reaches for the duvet to drag it over his face, but he’s met with resistance.

Resistance in the form of tall, handsome Peter Nureyev who most definitely hogs the covers. Juno hadn’t stayed long enough last time to be privy to this invaluable piece of information.

So he drags himself out of bed, ignores the room that spins ever so slightly, and begins to brew some coffee. It’s going to be another long day.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

Juno’s almost done. “Yes.” He starts searching for something to eat. He’s sure he has _something_ left. His stomach feels like it’s about to cave in.

He finds some slightly stale bread and half a jar of something sweet.

“Breakfast?” Peter looks at the smeared slices with apprehension, his hair slightly damp. There’s not enough of it to drip.

“Five stars, just for you.” Juno tries a slice. It’s not all that bad.

“Oh, you know how to spoil someone.” Juno thinks it’s supposed to be a jab, but there’s no… bite.

“Best restaurant in the sector, haven’t you heard?” Juno sips his coffee, careful not to cut himself on the chipped rim.

“I’m surprised people aren’t standing in line for hours.” Nureyev’s delivery is deadpan. Juno hides his smirk by starting on another piece of bread. He leans against the counter.

He doesn’t miss the way Nureyev eyes the slip of skin his tank exposes.

“Alright Nureyev. I need details so I can return the favour.”

Nureyev takes his time chewing.

“Well, as you know, I - Rex Glass that is - worked for Dark Matters.”

Juno remembers all too well. It was how he got into this… mess in the first place. Saving Mars was worth it, probably. “Yes, I remember.”

“They don’t like to lose employees, much less excellent ones. And I was most excellent.”

Even in his seemingly rumpled, abject state his self confidence is stifling and stupidly attractive. Juno sighs.

“So they want you back? I thought you were opportunistic enough to appreciate that side career.” His main one being thievery.

“No, no they don’t want me back. They don’t take deception on their employees’ part quite so well.”

Juno nods then drains his coffee.

“Bounty hunter?”

“More like a hitman.”

Dark Matters do have plenty in their employ.

“So, someone skilled and hungry for your blood?”

“Exactly.”

“They don’t know your real name, do they?”

“Of course not.” Nureyev almost seems offended.

“Good. That makes this easier. Not that anything to do with Dark Matters is ever easy.”

Juno pauses to pour a fresh cup of brew. He leaves the pot between them in case Peter wants some more. The bread is all gone.

“So, highly trained and probably motivated by more than money,” Dark Matters are notorious for going above and beyond for some persuasion techniques, “this sounds like quite a pickle. Tell me again why you were there at exactly the right moment to save me?”

The question has been bothering him from the moment he’d seen Nureyev again.

Nureyev seems thrown, if only for a second.

“I was trying to find someone, Jericho Judy, a fake name obviously, but her services are more fatal than fake.”

“Someone to solve your hitman problem.”

“Precisely.”

Juno wants to crack a window, but can’t seem to stop staring at the lines of Nureyev’s collarbones that peek out over the top of his undershirt.

“And what brought you to that tower?”

“I’m looking for a missing person.”

Silence.

“Does this person have a name?”

“They did.”

Nureyev raises his eyebrows but Juno shakes his head.

“Dead. I was next, but then you showed up out of nowhere.”

More silence. Come to think of it, they hadn’t actually showed him a body.

Juno bites his lip, shifts his weight from one leg to another, “why were you there anyway?”

“Well, I was told that Judy would be up top,” Nureyev says airily, “but saving you has made an audience impossible, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll offer you a better deal. No killing, though. Not if we can help it.” It’s not like his hands aren’t already soaked in  blood.

“Alright, I suppose we already know we work well together.”

“It’s a good thing you caught me as I was wrapping up a case.” Juno dumps his mug in the sink. He’s had enough.

“And will it be your normal rate?”

“For you it’s free,” Juno mutters.

He pauses on his way out of the kitchen.

“I’ll be ready to head out in fifteen.”

“Head out to where?” Nureyev copies him, placing his mug beside Juno’s. They don’t touch.

“To find a hitman.”

Juno takes his time getting dressed, making sure he has more than a few tricks up his sleeves. Working with Nureyev can be slippery like that. He doesn’t care that Nureyev is probably poking around in his kitchen, bathroom, living room… it should, but it doesn’t.

Maybe Nureyev isn’t. Hopefully he’s moved on. After this unlucky coincidence he’ll be on his way, off to see the stars, and far far away from Juno and Hyperion City.

“Juno?”

“Just a minute.” Staring into space won’t get him anywhere.

He picks his hat up with a flourish and pulls the brim down to cover his eyes. He usually forgoes it, but when he’s supposed to be dead it can have its advantages to seem that way for as long as possible.

“Okay, let’s get on with it.”

Juno tells himself he doesn’t miss it when Nureyev doesn’t shoot back a witty reply. He takes care to lock the door behind him when they leave.

“Mister Steel!” Rita apprehends them in the hallway. “You’re alright!”

He had forgotten to get back to her, again.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine Rita.”

“Ah, Miss Rita,” Nureyev is suddenly beside him, a softer version of his normally predatory smile on his face. “So lovely to see you again.”

“You-” Rita drops the papers she is holding to point an accusatory finger at him, “you! This is just like when Madame Chaudere from Mission Spectacles returned to the galactic hub and Miss Regina was waiting for her in episode 38!”

She’s grinning.

Juno is already crouching down to pick the papers up, grimacing at the twinge in his back. Maybe it’s time for a new mattress, when he has the money.

“Me? Mission spectacles...” Nureyev seems genuinely baffled. Juno smirks.

“Mister Steel, how-”

“Can we do this later, Rita?”

“Of course Mister Steel, I’m sure you have some daring criminals to catch. Nevermind that you’re two days late with my payment and I have bills to pay!” She fixes him with a steely look.

Juno winces. He had really, really meant to do that.

“You’ll get it by the end of the week Rita, I promise.”

“You better!”

“C’mon,” Juno says, lightly brushing Nureyev’s sleeve to try and guide him down the stairwell.

“Till the next time, Miss Rita!” Nureyev sounds cheery as ever, in contrast to the street outside which is as grim as ever.

“So detective, where do we start?”

“Where we know they’ve been.”

“What?”

“They could probably guess where you you’d be headed on Mars. Jericho Judy isn’t exactly a small time crook.”

“Surely we’re not going back to where we were yesterday?”

“Not quite. If they’re good, we won’t find anything at the tower. But the fact that you’re still alive, means they’re still around,” Juno turns to look at Nureyev, “Even a hitman needs a place to sleep. And i know the perfect place for doing that.”

He doesn’t bother to flag down a taxi. The walk won’t take long. And it wouldn’t hurt to remind Nureyev of all the reasons he undoubtedly has to leave Mars as quickly as possible when all of this is over and done with.

“So Juno, how have you been keeping yourself since we last saw each other?”

Why is Nureyev attempting small talk?

“In trouble,” Juno sighs.

Nureyev nods. “I noticed your new accessory-” he has to mean Juno’s eyepatch- “no cybernetic eye then?”

“No. Can’t afford one.” The same as the last time they’d talked about it.

“And is that a new coat? Oh my, Juno, I’m almost shocked.”

“I had to burn the old one.”

Nureyev raised an eyebrow.

“Sewers.” Juno doesn’t feel like explaining.

“Well, it suits you.”

“Is there something I’m missing or is it just your personality to flirt all the time?” That comes out harsher than Juno maybe would’ve liked.

Nureyev is quiet for a minute, as it he’s considering his answer. “I think with you it’s hard to help myself.”

Why does Nureyev insist on being so truthful with him? Trust?

“Anything I can do to make it easier?”

“Well, you already left.” His voice is hard as ice.

Juno hates that it’s inevitable. Juno hates that this conversation has arrived.

“I suppose it's only fair, after I left you, but you could have-”

“Could have what?”

“Explained.”

Juno… wants the words explaining why he left to make sense in his head again, but all he knows is that they don’t seem so important with Nureyev standing there, right in front of him.

It’s so easy to forget everything else when he’s with him.

But the world doesn’t go away. Hyperion City may be a mess, but so is he. That won’t change if he runs away. He won’t wake up and shed himself like a second skin when he leaves Mars.

Quiet.

“Juno, do you… regret leaving?”

“I plead the 15th.” Those words are suddenly easy.

Thank fuck they’ve arrived.

“Alright, time to wait.”

It’s luck that there’s a beat up car in the alley. The windows are smashed in, but it seems to have been abandoned.

“Ah, what a stroke of luck,” Nureyev comments, but there’s no mystery or playfulness in his tone.

Juno finds it a little unsettling, but who is he to expect anything from Nureyev?

How well does he know him, really?

His hands itch as he remembers how well he knows certain parts of him. The knife, the red room, his body… but does Juno know enough of his stars to recognise his constellations for what they are?

At least Juno remembers to brush the glass off the passenger seat with his sleeve before he sits down.

He doesn’t lean away when he feels Nureyev’s upper arm brush against his. He pulls the brim of his hat low and sinks down further into the seat, trying to get out of plain view. No sense in being spotted before they’ve done the spotting.

“And now?”

Juno doesn’t know what will happen now they’ve been thrust together again. He doesn’t want to hope, he’s been _there_ before, he knows where he’ll end up-

Nureyev is looking at him expectantly. He raises an eyebrow.

He meant the case. He meant what do they do in the car.

“Now we wait.”

Juno, you idiot. Juno even thinks it in _his_ voice. He still misses his cologne, his everything. Some days it feels like to much to bear, but Juno knows his shoulders can carry what feels impossible.

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes.” An answer Juno hates.

Nureyev huffs, but slides down in his seat. Juno wonders how much he really stops, if he slows down. Nureyev lived in a cycle of always moving onto the next thing, the next planet, the next adventure.

Their conversation splutters and dies like a wick drowning in candle wax.

The silence drags on and on, the leather squeaking whenever they readjust themselves.

Eventually though, like all things, it ends.

“There.” Nureyev’s voice is a whisper.

Juno sees the figure.

“Want to get this over with?” Juno asks as Nureyev is already reaching to open his door.

They’re in sync as they approach the figure from behind. Nureyev grabs them as Juno kicks down a door to their left.

It’s abandoned and empty, just like every other building on the block - a perfect place for hiding out. Juno suspects the buildings will be demolished soon, the rubble of the past brushed away to make room for yet another gleaming future.

“So, we meet at last.” Nureyev’s flair for the dramatic seems to have returned in full force.

Juno pulls the boards down off the window to let some light in. The room is bathed in red, the few random pieces of furniture that are strewn about, too. The paint peeling off the walls gives way to mould.

Nureyev gestures to an intact chair and Juno is there, helping Nureyev tackle the surprisingly quiet assassin into it. He pulls some handcuffs out of a pocket at secures their prisoner.

“Ooh, I love how prepared you are.”

Juno ignores him, knowing he will remember Nureyev’s words later.

“Right, who are you?”

The hitman doesn’t answer, and Juno is more than a little perturbed.

Quick as a wink, Nureyev has a flashlight in his hand and is pointing it at his would be killer’s face.

“Agent P.”

“Long time no see, Glass.” Agent P smirks. That might explain the silence, but it doesn’t explain-

“How do you two know each other?”

“We worked cases together, a long time ago. She’s an excellent Agent, outstanding at anything she puts her mind to.”

“So I wasn’t your first partner?” Juno doesn’t mean to say anything, but here he is, yet another stupid idea and somehow he’s still afloat.

He doesn’t miss the pleased crinkle around Nureyev’s eyes.

“So you’re Juno Steel.”

“Yeah. I heard I have you to thank for being dangled over the edge of a very tall tower like a piece of washing the other day.”

“Credit where credit is due.”

“You Dark Matters Agents are all the same. Obfuscation, misdirection, sunglasses everywhere-”

He could swear he hears Nureyev snicker.

“Deciding over citizen’s lives for them, and for what?”

“Peace in our time.”

Juno rolls his eye. “Like that isn’t the ultimate get out of jail free card.”

Time to cut right to the heart of it.

"There's just one thing that's been bothering me," Juno pauses for dramatic effect, "it's why you didn't just shoot Glass when he rescued me."

Agent P laughs softly.

"Out there, up in the open, any number of neighbouring buildings to take a good shot from." Juno stands right in front of her.

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you up there. My research didn't paint you as quite so... unpredictable."

"So where should I have been?"

"Leaving out the front of the building with Nureyev, Judy's henchmen kicking you to the curb."

"You were in the street then."

"But we left the through the side entrance," Nureyev mutters.

"So, did you engineer my missing person's case?" Juno feels cold and hard inside. If he'd had a hand in another person's death...

"No, no. But I did leave some clues to make it seem like Judy had a hand in it."

"It was all a trap." Nureyev sounds resigned.

"One the notorious Agent Rex Glass fell for." Agent P should look more pleased, Juno thinks.

It makes sense, the only real connection Agent Rex Glass had apparently had, apart from the one with the agent sent to kill him. Steer Nureyev towards Mars, and a set up what would be the perfect trap. With Juno as bait.

"So, what have they got on you?"

Agent P looks at him blankly.

"I really, really don't care for all that Dark Matter's 'it's classified' bullshit-"

"He really doesn't," Nureyev adds.

"And if you tell us, we can help."

Juno holds Agent P's stare.

"They have my daughter."

"Any idea where?"

"No."

Juno turns to Nureyev only to find his eyes already on him.

"We can't break into Dark Matters."

Juno almost wants to answer that nothing's impossible for Peter Nureyev, master thief, but he holds himself back.

"I'm gonna try Sasha." She wouldn't be happy to hear from him.

He walks over into the next room through an archway, wanting at least the semblance of privacy. He pulls out his communicator, glad he'd decided to take it with him this morning. This was a call he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to make.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"It's me.”

“Juno!”

“Look, I know you're probably still angry-"

"Probably? Try definitely!"

“But a young girl’s life is at stake and if it’s worth anything to you… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

The few seconds of silence drag on.

“I’m very busy you know, this better be important.”

“It is. Do you know Agent P? She’s supposed to be hunting down-”

“Agent Glass.”

“How do you know that?” Juno hopes she didn’t assign her.

“I was just reading the memo.”

“Can you call her off and release her daughter?”

“Hmmm, give me a minute, I’ll call you back.”

“Wait-” but the loud click cuts him off before he can protest.

The faint slit of light shining into the room is suddenly half as big. Nureyev is sticking his head round the door, his expression expectant.

“What did she say?”

“She’ll call me back.”

Juno almost misses Glass’ chuckle. “Sounds like her.”

“What is Sasha’s reputation like?”

“That would be telling, now wouldn’t it?”

“Not really. I do know her.” Just not for the past fifteen years.

“She’s fierce, stubborn, determined… but she also has the best record for saving civilians I’ve seen.”

“You’ve seen many then, have you?”

Nureyev taps his nose.

“Thank you.”

He knows Sasha is better off away from Mars, he’s glad she’s not around, but he does miss her. Even if they couldn’t have what they’d had back, Juno didn’t want things to be sour between them.

“How long have you known her?”

Nureyev seems interested.

“Since we were kids.”

“She doesn’t mention you.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Or maybe Nureyev is just trying to get a better idea of Juno’s character, trying to see if he can work out why Juno left. After saying yes. After admitting he wanted to leave. After admitting he loved him.

“Nure- Glass, I-”

His communicator bleeps and Juno flips it open, turning away slightly.

“And?” He almost crosses his fingers before he remembers he doesn’t believe in that stuff. Then he crosses them anyway. He’ll take whatever he can get, he just wants Nureyev to be safe.

“I made a call. The hit on Glass will now be marked as carried out. I thought that would be wiser than trying to reverse the whole operation.”

“Yes. Good thinking.”

“That’s why I’m the one with a high ranking job at Dark Matters, Juno. You can thank me later, and we can have a longer chat about what happened.”

A chat means dealing with things, but maybe Juno’s ready for that. Or at least, as ready as he’ll ever be.

“Sure.”

“Go on then, go tell Agent P the good news. Oh, and say hi to Agent Glass from me.”

Another click, and Juno puts his communicator away automatically. He walks past Nureyev, unsure whether the brush of his hand against Nureyev’s coat is accidental or just the result of his desperation.

“Sasha says hi.” He faces Nureyev when he says it before turning back to Agent P.

Juno moves to unlock the handcuffs confining her. He’s sure if she had wanted to, she’d have been out of them before Nureyev had come to check on him.

“Congratulations, you just killed Agent Glass.”

Agent P rubs her wrists.

“Thank you.”

“And thank you for making it quick and painless.” Nureyev all but swoops in to stand beside Juno. “Do you need a proof of death?”

“Not in a place like Hyperion City.” Well if that doesn’t say it all.

“Plus, a call from Agent Wire is more than enough to discredit any naysayers. But it’d probably be best if you didn’t show your face again, Rex.”

“Sure Kel. Farewell, may better things await you.”

She chuckles. “You too.”

And then she’s walking past the two of them and out the door, leaving Juno with Nureyev, who no longer has an excuse to stay.

“Drinks?” Juno asks before he can think better of it.

“How can I refuse?” Nureyev looks better already, the spring in his step back again.

The walk back isn’t grim, but it seems solemn, silent. Juno tries not to question the wisdom of his offer, if he can in any way call it wisdom. Just this morning all he’d wanted was Nureyev gone again. But having him there, in his kitchen, walking alongside him in the streets of Hyperion City… there was no use denying how deeply he misses him. How very much he is still in love with him.

“I’m glad to be free of the target on my back. It’s been a… drain.”

Juno nods, unsure of himself, unsure of what he should say. Of what he wants to say. So he keeps his mouth shut.

When he sees Rita’s empty desk, he decides to call her. No point in her worrying. It’s after he’s pressed her number that he realises: if she know’s he’s okay, she won’t call. There would be no interruptions.

“Mister Steel? Is everything okay? Do you need me pick you up? I really hope not, I’ve just sat down to-

“No, no, I don’t need picking up, Rita.”

“Oh. Are you okay, though?”

“Yes. Just calling to tell you everything went okay. And that I have a new lead for the missing persons case.”

“Oh, are you still working that Mister Steel?”

“I got… diverted.” Juno looks at Nureyev out of the corner of his eye. He’s flipping through Juno’s cabinets, too quickly to take note of anything. Then he pulls two mismatched, yet clean glasses out of one.

“Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow! My show’s just starting.”

“Good night Rita.” She hangs up on him.

Juno begins the arduous task of taking his jacket off, careful not to booby trap himself as he does so.

“Need some help?”

“No,” Juno swallows. He manages.

“I took the liberty of pouring.” Nureyev hands him a glass when he’s done. The brush of their fingers can’t be an accident.

Juno is about to down the whole thing before he changes his mind and stops halfway.

“So, you’re a free man again, Nureyev. What will you do now?” He doesn’t ask: where will you go now?

“I suppose I should lay low for a while, as a courtesy.”

Juno doesn’t say anything.

“I haven’t decided where yet.”

Juno nods again, downing his glass in what he hopes is an inconspicuous manner. Well, he was never really one for subtlety.

"Hyperion City is maze of criminals, reformed or otherwise - I'm sure you'd have no problem fitting in for a while if you wanted to."

"Hmmm," Nureyev hums, leaning closer. He refills Juno's glass.

Juno lets out a breath when Nureyev sets the bottle down again, but he leans in close again as soon as he's done.

And he’s close. So close. His cologne is almost overpowering. The last time he'd been this close-

"Is that an invitation to stay?"

Juno doesn't feel like playing games.

"If you want it to be."

"And I'd be staying with you?"

Juno clenches his jaw.

"Yes."

Nureyev leans back, regarding him steadily over his untouched glass.

"Do I get an explanation in this hypothetical scenario?"

Juno knows there's no way around it. He knows he'd want an explanation if their positions were reversed (they had been, and Peter Nureyev had given him his name), he knows.... he knows that he does want to tell Peter - and yes, he's Peter again, someone real, someone standing in front of him, someone he could reach out and touch.

Juno knows that if he wants any kind of future with Peter in it or just… with him, he has to tell him.

Juno wants to tell him.

"Okay, yes."

Juno sets his glass down.

"You get one now, regardless of whether you do or want to stay. I-" Juno needs to sit down. He marches himself over to the sofa, glass forgotten. Why numb himself tonight when all he wants to do, really, is bask in the glow of Peter Nureyev, who carries starlight in his every step?

Peter doesn't move for a second, then comes over, drapes his jacket over the back of the old sofa and sits down next to Juno. Their thighs don't quite touch.

"I'm all ears," Peter says, his glasses glinting as a zeppelin passes by outside, some show or other grinning at them, larger than life on the gaudy screen attached to the side of the airship.

"I've never never actually left Mars," Juno starts, "and Hyperion City is my home, which it probably shouldn't be, not if I had any sense, or self respect-" he realises he's beginning to ramble- "but... it is."

Peter nods, giving Juno space to talk.

"I meant what I said in the chamber. It was, is, the truth, but it's not the only truth. "

Juno looks out the window again. It's the usual blend of saturated neon lights, washed out reflections and the bustle of life.

"I want to be with you, to see the stars with you, but I can't. I just don't feel like I can leave Hyperion City. I don't feel like I'm cut out to do this, at least not well." Juno doesn't need to remember the last time to know that.

"I can be a right asshole, okay? Sarcastic and prickly on the outside, surprisingly moral underneath, but under that, just… an asshole.”

Juno forces himself to look at Peter.

"And besides, it's not fair to ask you to choose between me and the stars."

It’s quiet for about a heartbeat.

"Oh, Juno," Peter says, a look that Juno would describe as soft in his eyes.

“It’s not a decision you can, or should try to make for me.”

Then suddenly he's leaning forwards, his thigh warm against Juno's, his lips soft and his hand strong as it cups Juno’s jaw.

Juno kisses Peter back and he feels like he's melting. A moan, muffled by Peter's mouth on his, escapes him when Peter's other hand grips the bottom of his ribcage none too lightly, Peter's thumb sliding under his suspenders to tease his nipple. Juno brings a hand up to cup the back of Peter’s neck.

They stay like that, probably not even for a minute, lost in each other.

Then Juno pulls back, trying not to lean into Peter's touch too much.

"You want this? I can't offer you the stars out there."

"Well, maybe it would be nice to have someone to come home to," Peter smiles, and although he looks happy, his smile is still razor sharp.

Juno turns around and hooks his legs on either side of Peter. "Sounds good to me."

He shifts himself into Nureyev's lap. If he's taking the plunge, he's not going to be shy about what he wants.

"Oh, detective!"

Juno leans forward, stopping just short of kissing Peter.

"I've always wondered- are these fake?" He reaches for Peter's glasses.

"I'm long sighted, but it's always helpful when changing my appearance."

"Hmm." Juno sets the glasses aside.

He leans in for another kiss, angling his head. Peter doesn't really taste of much - their breakfast seems ages ago now. They didn't eat during their stakeout. Maybe they should-

But then Peter runs his tongue across Juno's bottom lip in a way that makes his toes curl. Peter deepens the kiss and Juno clings onto his biceps. The gasps he can hear are undoubtedly mostly his own.

They break apart after a few minutes.

"Food," Juno says before Peter kisses him again.

Peter raises an eyebrow. "What an excellent idea."

"Take-out?"

"Sure."

"Anything in particular you like, don't like?"

"The place round the corner looked nice."

It’s Juno's favourite, of course. "Sure."

Juno gets up clumsily to get his communicator. He comes back with a menu - slightly scrunched up, sauce spilled over it, it's not like he doesn't know his order off by heart - only to find that Peter is holding a pristine menu in one hand.

"Where did you-" but Juno's eyes have already landed on Peter's coat.

"I think I'll have number 93 and 34."

Juno hasn't tried either of them. He orders quickly.

When he's done, he dumps his communicator on his desk and strides back over to Peter.

"Now, where were we?"

They kiss until the delivery arrives, and for once Juno doesn't mind that it takes too long. At least the delivery droid doesn't seem phased by his rumpled state.

"Here," he says, handing Peter a few boxes. Juno settles onto the sofa again, facing Peter, but crossing his legs this time. He digs in with his plastic fork, only just realising how hungry he is.

"So," Peter begins, and it's comical because he has noodles hanging out the side of his mouth, "you've never been to earth?"

"Never seen the point in going."

"The oceans there are beautiful."

"Didn't use to be." And Juno's glad when Peter doesn't try to pursue it further. Or maybe there isn't something to pursue. Maybe Peter's really just curious.

"What's the furthest you've been away from earth?" Juno asks.

"Well, I once landed myself on a freighter flying away from the outer rim with stock for the farreach outposts.”

"Really?"

And as Peter tells the fascinating, improbably tale that starts with him stealing blueprints and ends with a spaceship manoeuvre that Juno is having trouble picturing, Juno feels happy, content almost.

He knows this isn't all that there is to relationship, but what Peter Nureyev makes him want to do more than anything else it to try.  


End file.
